


Sleeping Dogs

by HanaAarow



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanaAarow/pseuds/HanaAarow
Summary: On the flight home, Robert worries about a concerning pattern that emerged on tour.
Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Sleeping Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> The first fic I’ve written from Robert’s perspective ! I wonder what you can guess about my personality based on the fact I usually write from Jimmy’s pov >_>

When Jimmy was awake he caused all kinds of problems, with drugs, with alcohol, with perfectionism, with stubbornness, it was all part of the lovely package that was Jimmy. When Jimmy was awake it was hard to tell what he was thinking, not because he didn’t show it, but because whatever was going on in his head was so incomprehensibly Jimmy that it was often futile to try and figure it out when he would refuse to adequately relay it in words to your bloody face. Outside of the airplane window it was dark, but there were still lights on inside (as was customary on the starship) and Jimmy was no longer awake. Robert sat wearily next to him with a cigarette, he had grown tired of the girls and the drugs now, just wanting to be home faster. Across the floor he could see Jonesy slumped in an unbreakable slumber as well, no doubt dreaming of his wife and kids who he would soon be seeing again. Robert shifted disgruntledly on the seat and looked at Jimmy’s peacefully sleeping face. He didn’t know what Jimmy felt about him and he didn’t know what Jimmy was dreaming about. Ash fell dismally from the cigarette onto Robert’s newly pressed jeans. He briefly conferred with one of the women on board, but she could tell he wasn’t interested, he didn’t see much use in hiding it.  
Robert felt angry at Jimmy, watching him like this, it seemed so easy now that he was no longer awake, like maybe it was possible for things to make sense, like it would only be logical for this man to act like a normal person. He didn’t know what to do with this anger, he wasn’t sure if he felt like hitting Jimmy, because that would wake him up and everything would go wrong again. Maybe he was just tired out. It had been a long tour.   
He briefly scuffed the ash from his knee and recalled with some inflated sense of pain, the recent events that were at the moment giving him such grief. It was something of a repeated pattern, something that always seemed to resurface and it had reached a particular climax in recent days. He just wanted to go home, why was he thinking about this, why was he thinking about Jimmy, he should have been thinking about Maureen, about Carmen and Karac. That only made it worse, it was irritating that this had not happened earlier, had not been resolved at another time. The thing was, there had been multiple occasions when Jimmy was intoxicated (on god knows what substances, it was a pointless endeavour to try and recount them at this point), he would start showing an interest in Robert that he seemed to leave completely ignored when he was sober. He would stare at him with his glassy blackened eyes, grab his arm, lean against him, moan things in his ear that Robert usually chose to ignore out of disbelief, and the next day if Robert said anything, he would become irritated and distant. Robert knew why he reacted like that, he was probably ashamed and in denial of what he felt, but after a certain amount of times it had lost its charm.   
Two nights before this one, Jimmy had been utterly out of his mind on drugs, he looked as if he was most likely going to be stuck on the lavender couch he was slouching on for the rest of his days. And he was staring open-mouthed at Robert who was sitting quietly on an adjacent chair with a blunt in his hand. It was a quiet gathering but whatever pills Jimmy had swallowed probably made up for the lack of hustle and bustle at this particular affair. Robert looked back pointedly, he wondered if Jimmy felt any twinge of shame or guilt at being caught looking, and if he simply had to bear it because he didn’t have enough presence of mind to try and relocate his googly eyes. They stared at each other like this for a while before Jimmy blinked slowly like a cat and licked his lips which were pink from blood rush. His cheeks were pink too, and the tiny bit of his chest that you could catch a look at before his buttons started locking arms with their holes. As Jimmy’s displays of lust had gone on, Robert had started to respond to his advances, realising that this wasn’t just some sort of bizarre drunk behaviour or sign of incoming madness, there must be real feelings here, trying to get out. Jimmy slid his hand wantonly across the couch in some sort of hopped up attempt at trying to touch Robert, maybe in his mind his thigh was just an inch out of reach. Robert opened his legs and reclined in the chair, telling Jimmy that he was interested, (an idiotic reminder that Jimmy was not the only one high that night). He stubbed out the joint in a nearby ashtray after taking a half hearted drag and slipped out the back door as surreptitiously as possible to have an ordinary cigarette. It wasn’t long after he’d lit the thing that Jimmy appeared sweating and luminous in the doorway and shoved Robert back into the bricks of the wall with his his burning palms. They had kissed with feverish aggression for a carefree minute before Robert pushed Jimmy away with concern, he was worried there might have been something up with those pills. Or Jimmy was on too many things at once. He’d no doubt been shooting up at the party. He led a confused Jimmy back inside and put him in an (almost) vacant bedroom.   
He took home a girl that night and told Peter to deal with Jimmy, but he still felt a sense of unease around the whole thing. In some desperate sense to connect the world of drunk Jimmy and the world of sober Jimmy, Robert had written a note and slipped it in the pocket of the drowsy man as he lay on the bed.  
“Pagey, I would like to do more of what we did tonight when you are sober,  
Percy”  
Earlier this evening, Jimmy had distantly asked him what the note meant, (even thought it would probably seem perfectly obvious to anyone, even if they had no idea of the circumstances) and Robert had feigned confusion, prompting Jimmy to produce it from the pocket of his tweed coat, which was not the pocket that it had been placed in. Robert had sighed matter-of-factly and described the events of that night. Jimmy looked at him with a face of indignant confusion before slumping forwards, hiding all other unhappy facial expressions behind his hair. He crumpled the note in his hands.   
Robert watched Jimmy’s chest rise and fall with his breathing, like a small rodent who’s entire tiny body quivers when it breathes. His mouth was open slightly and his head lolled gracefully towards Robert as he slept, he sometimes made a similar expression when he played, dark eyes gently shut in an expression of peace or ecstasy and his lips slightly parted to show a bit of his front teeth. Robert thought that the girls in the audience were probably turned on by that face, he knew that he was.   
He wanted to shake Jimmy, but that would wake him up. He wanted to shout at him, he wanted to throttle him, he wanted to kiss him, he wanted to get on his knees and beg to him; but he didn’t want him to wake up.   
Robert lifted his cigarette to his lips and a cascade of ash kamikazed into the carpet. He really ought to get rid of it because he obviously had no idea what he was doing with it. When the cigarette was dispensed of, he found himself in the same spot again. Jimmy didn’t stir.  
It seemed far away, but music was playing. Jimmy’s eyes darted about beneath his eyelids. Robert gazed at him with dim curiosity from where he was now leaning against the seat-back with his arms folded, wondering what his companion was dreaming about. He glanced down and noticed that Jimmy was hard, this was perfectly normal of course, but Robert couldn’t help thinking that if he ever felt that hard-on pressed into his hip again, he would slap Jimmy square in the face. A bit of drool had collected at the corner of Jimmy’s mouth, and his head had tipped to face Robert.   
He looked around, suddenly realising that people might find it a bit odd how he was just sitting watching his bandmate sleep. God he was out of it. It didn’t seem like anyone was taking much notice of him anyway, they were all engrossed in their own conversations or also opting to get some semblance of rest. He turned back to Jimmy and brushed his hand gently along the side of his thigh, he was wearing dark wash denim that clung there. Robert had always found Jimmy attractive, never thought much of it but knew it was there, it just seemed like basic science to him. Anyone could see that Jimmy was gorgeous, regardless of whatever their proposed sexuality was. He wondered if Jimmy felt the same about him, or maybe he’d just started feeling Robert up as some sort of twisted coping mechanism for whatever was going on in his head. He suddenly wished that Jimmy was awake, but really awake, walking and talking and looking back at Robert the way he was looking at him now, pleading with his stubbornly closed eyelids. He rested his hand on Jimmy’s thigh and looked down at his knees with a deep and sad sigh.   
“Uh, Robert,”  
Robert groaned in protest and opened his leaden eyelids.  
“Plane’s landing.”  
Jimmy stood uncertainly and Robert’s hand dropped from his thigh, coming to rest on the now vacant seat.


End file.
